


the dark of night

by cassandor



Series: constellations [3]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: First Kiss, Imperial Academy, M/M, Pre-Canon, Undercover Cassian, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-09 00:06:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11092755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassandor/pseuds/cassandor
Summary: a long, long time ago when cassian met bodhi. also for @cassianweek - May 21: Free Day





	the dark of night

**Author's Note:**

> no lies was inspired by the line about a crush on bamayar, the dark of night is inspired by the line about a first kiss. I like to think they’re two different ‘we met before’ situations that happen in two diff canon-compliant universes.

“Jor!”

Cassian turns, trepidation settling in his gut as he recognizes the nickname. 

“Bodhi,” he replies, as much of a acknowledgment as a bewildered exclamation. “What are you doing here so late?”

“Coming back from a small… uh… party,” Bodhi shuffles towards him, a sly and unusually bold and careless grin creeping across his face. 

“You’ve been drinking.” His voice is flat but Cassian’s eyes are wide. Not that drinking was anything new among the recruits (despite regulations), but Cassian knew Bodhi didn’t have the taste for it. 

Bodhi’s eyebrows narrow. “No, I haven’t. You know I don’t.”

“Alright.” He could, using his upper-year tutor status, disrupt their gathering and knock some sense into the students - _never sneak alcohol into someone’s drink ever again -_ but he didn’t want to draw any more attention than he needed to. Not when his mission was almost over, not when he was this close to leaving. 

In fact, he was working on his quiet escape, when Bodhi had disrupted his line of thought.

Like that wasn’t anything new. 

The sloppy grin returns to Bodhi’s face. _Maybe he isn’t drunk_ , Cassian thinks. The night brings a sense of bravery, the empty hallways a sense of security. It was why he’d been idly walking around the building to think of a plan. 

But nobody was truly free of the Empire’s scrutinizing gaze, especially in an Imperial Academy of all places. Even a less reputable one, lax enough that rebels could sneak in undetected. 

“So what are you up to?” 

“Can’t sleep.” It was true, after all. Cassian could never sleep on infiltration missions, the stench of Imperial-quality sterilizing chemicals and the stiffness of his grey bedsheets too much to bear. Base One had its military structure, but also a sense of home. The smell of caf lingering in the air, the oil stains on pilots’ flightsuits, the worn out spots on his military-issue jacket. Here everything was regulated to lifeless perfection.

Bodhi nods a little too knowingly, licking his lips as his eyes flicker from Cassian’s regulation-breaking hair to his slightly crumpled uniform. 

_Maybe not everything._

Cassian tugs at his collar. “You should get back to your quarters.”

Bodhi raises his eyebrows. “Are you telling me it’s bedtime?” 

Cassian suppresses a laugh. “You don’t want to get caught lingering in the hallways too long. You know the rules.” Now he really wants to laugh at the hypocrisy of a Rebel telling an Imperial to follow the rules.  

“I just did. You didn’t do anything.” 

“Not everyone is as nice as me.” 

Bodhi takes a step closer, leaning close. “You’re not nice, you’re just nice to _me_.” 

Cassian swallows. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have. Not when he was about to leave. A dismal thought creeps into his mind. In case his plan fell apart, in case his secret spilled into the open - would talking to a Rebel spy, alone, in an empty hallway, after midnight, hurt Bodhi’s career?

It would. He takes a step back, suddenly finding his back pressed against the wall. Cassian relaxes his stance, thumbs hooking around his belt loops. A lifetime’s experience of hiding the thundering of his heart. 

 _Why do you care about an Imperial’s career so much?_  The question forces itself into his thoughts. _And why are you so nervous around him?_

“Accusing me of favoritism, huh? That’s harsh.”

“It’s true though,” Bodhi says, and suddenly Cassian realizes how close he is. “Right?” 

Cassian always found it hard to lie, but tonight he found the words stalling on his tongue. So instead he studies Bodhi’s face, an amused smile curling across his lips. _He’s not the only one feeling careless._

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” Bodhi says, and when Cassian doesn’t protest, leans up and kisses him.

A wave of shock washes over him, drowning his senses. For a few moments, all he’s aware of a sudden burning desire and nothing else, heart racing as his brain tries to process the sensation. The taste of alcohol registers in his mind, confirming his earlier suspicion. 

Then he’s awash with a new kind of guilt. He was used to the kind of guilt he felt walking away from a mission with the word _traitor_  emblazoned on his chest. The kind that made his shoulders sag as he lowered his rifle, whispering _target neutralized_  into his headpiece.

But now, _now_ he felt guilty for wanting.  

He sighs and they press closer together. This felt right and wrong all at the same time.

Right in so, so many ways, ways he wouldn’t have ever begun to understand without the feeling of Bodhi’s arms wrapped around him, his face tilted up to meet his. Right like this was the only way they had ever been and will ever be, like anything else was unfathomable. His hands curl around Bodhi’s uniform, puling him closer.

But there were only two reasons why everything felt wrong. _Only_ two against infinitely more, but those reasons dwarfed all the others. 

One, Cassian was undercover. He’d flirted with targets before. Words were more useful than weapons - and those words were empty, artificially sweet and laced with poison. But this was real, bittersweet like sugary drinks and regulation shampoos and too-strong caf all mixed together on the tip of his tongue. 

More real than anything else in Cassian’s life, maybe excluding his devotion to the Rebellion. He feared giving in now (and oh, he _really_  wanted to give in) would ruin the sanctity of… whatever _this_  was: the little voice in his head that went _uh oh_ the first time Bodhi had slid up beside him at the mess hall, the part of Cassian’s brain that gripped the fabric between his fingers while the rest, the rational part, told him to let go. His hands shake with the effort.

Two, Bodhi was drunk. He wasn’t thinking straight, or else why would he have pinned Cassian to the wall in the middle of a corridor? To him, at least, Cassian was an upper year, and this was the military. Shoving said upper year up against a wall was not in his best interest (but not unheard of). Cassian’s mind was neither thinking of an escape nor reveling in the feeling of Bodhi’s lips against his - but drowning in the guilt of _what if I’m taking advantage of him?_

He could push Bodhi away now, potentially ruining a night he wouldn’t even remember, or give in and ruin _what could be_. (The rational part of him scoffs, _as if_ , and normally he would too.) His grip loosens. When he put it that way, the answer was painfully obvious.

Cassian gently pushes Bodhi away. 

He stumbles, and Cassian instinctively reaches out for him, catching him by the arm.

“S-sorry,” Bodhi mumbles, “I should’ve asked first.” 

“It’s alright.” It was more than alright, but Cassian was trying to find the way out that caused the least amount of damage. Just like any other mission. 

“We shou-”

“We shouldn’t,” Cassian interrupts, hoarse. He clears his throat. “We can’t.”

“Why?” 

Cassian mulls over reasons other than being a rebel spy. 

“Oh, because you’re a higher up?”

Cassian found most people tended to answer their own questions, right or wrong. Sighing, he nods.

“It’s not that big of a deal. Unless you’re hiding something else. If it’s me…” 

Cassian shrugs, grappling between not wanting to hurt Bodhi’s feelings, and needing to hurt Bodhi’s feelings for their own safety. 

Bodhi swallows. “Alright.” He moves to leave, then looks down at his arm, Cassian still gripping it tightly. Cassian follows his gaze. 

He lets go. 


End file.
